


Building the House of Memories

by Ralcemns



Series: House of Memories [2]
Category: House of Memories - Panic! at the Disco (Song), ParaNorman
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:39:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6935521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralcemns/pseuds/Ralcemns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the prequel to House of Memories. It is the tale of Gracie's lost love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Used To

I used to tell myself that I should have never let myself fall in love, but when I see Jack and Elsa so happy together, I'm not so sure. Sometimes I think that maybe I should just have spent as much time as I could have with the love of my life.  
His name was Norman Babcock, and although it freshens old wounds, I'll spare you the story.


	2. Gracie Had Lived

Gracie had lived for almost hundreds of years now. She had been a young one raised up to be the potential queen, but not through blood. She'd heard the stories of prior kings and queens to have stepped down from gained insanity, the proceeder of Gracie having left before he had the chance to birth an heir. Despite this, Gracie kept her wits, and was a great queen for very long. She never seemed to get bored because there was always something new.  
Her entire life took a turn when those two soldiers came into her court with that boy.  
"This one's used magic without being your majesty, your majesty!" one of the soldiers declared.  
"Witchcraft!" the other chimed. Magic wasn't wide-spread across the population yet, so this was very new.  
Gracie had delt with many misjudgments over her time, often having to ask what exactly had been done to prove the criminal to be crafty. She repeated the process.  
She asked apathetically, "What was he seen doing?"  
"Multiple accounts claim he was speaking with the dead!" a soldier explained.  
The other continued, "These claims have been going on since this one was real little, so we had to check it out, and indeed we've seen it ourselves."  
Gracie was now intrigued, wondering what the boy could have possibly been doing if not being a medium, but she considered that there could be many things that she just hadn't thought of. She continued her process.  
"He'll have to stay here for me to observe and judge him," she imparted.  
The soldiers saluted and left, letting go of the boy they dragged in. He looked frightened from when he came in to when Gracie walked up to him.  
"Follow me," she directed, being firm and trying her best to treat him as a prisoner. She had the feeling that this one actually wasn't a misunderstanding, so she knew he was acting illegally, but she couldn't help but be interested in how he might have come across magic. Not to mention what his powers themselves entailed.  
"Here is your room," Gracie explained after she led him up some stairs and through a hall. "You're supposed to accompany me, though, until I dismiss you so that I can observe and judge you, so come with me." He followed compliantly.  
"What's your name?" she asked the boy after a small while of walking through halls on the way to the library.  
"Norman... Babcock," he finally spoke.  
He wasn't what any mortal might call a boy, but Gracie was much older than anyone, and was in the habit of calling everyone else a "boy" or a "girl". Sometimes even "kid" or "child".  
"Do you agree that you have the power to speak with the dead?" she asked him as she opened the library doors. She knew any person would deny the accusation, true or not, in order to save their skin, but Norman surprised her.  
"Yes," he said sheepishly.  
Gracie stopped short in the library doorway, pausing a bit longer before looking over her shoulder at the boy.  
"You know you die if I see that you do have that power," she reminded him.  
"I know," he said, still sheepish. Gracie was struck by his bravery and honesty.  
"Well, I still have to see it for it to be true," she concluded, and continued on towards the bookshelves.  
While browsing, it suddenly occurred to Gracie that maybe he wasn't so brave. Maybe he had a death wish.


	3. Looking Through

Looking through all sorts of books on myths about death, Gracie tried not to let Norman catch onto what she was doing. She couldn't seem interested, like she really was. She had to seem a ruthless queen who would execute him the moment he showed any sign of talking to ghosts.  
Gracie had Norman sit in a chair at the end of the long bookshelf she was browsing, so that he wouldn't get in the way. To her fault, she asked him questions anyway.  
"How do your powers work, exactly?" she asked while thumbing through an ancient book on the afterlife.  
Gracie glanced over and saw him sit up stringer from being slightly startled, and after a moment's hesitation, he responded, "Well... it seems only I can see them."  
"The ghosts?" Gracie clarified.  
"Yeah," Norman affirmed, getting a bit more relaxed.  
"So I couldn't really tell if you were actually talking to a ghost or not?" Gracie wonders after thinking for a minute.  
"I guess not," Norman said, shifting in his seat a little. It was obvious he was uncomfortable, but who wouldn't be when talking to a wisened queen, in her castle, about powers she might kill you at any second for? Then Gracie remembered his possible death wish, so she asked another question.  
"What was your life like, where you lived?" she inquired. She picked her words carefully, choosing to imply that he would never go back to where he lived to intimidate him.  
Gracie saw him glance back at her in confusion out of the corner of her eye, but she pretended to be only half-invested in what he had to say, keeping her eyes on the book in her hands.  
"Uh... I guess I wasn't very well-liked, so I guess that means I didn't have that great of a life," he answered. His words implied that his life was already over, revealing that Gracie's semantics meant to intimidate were working.  
Gracie found a page in her book that put into detail the superstitious author's view of the afterlife, then asked a question that would further her knowledge in two areas at once. "You know what the afterlife's like?" It was phrased indicatively, since she assumed he did, but stressed as a question because she wasn't sure.  
"For some," Norman said, not giving Gracie at al what she thought he would say.  
"What does that mean?" she questioned, finally looking up from her book.  
"Well, I don't know what happens to the others, but the ones who are ghosts are only that way because of their deaths," he explained.  
"How so?" Gracie pressed.  
"People end up a ghost if they died in a terrible way, or if they still have stuff to figure out, assuming that stuff can be figured out in ghost form," Norman added.  
Gracie dropped her guard and went over to stand in front of Norman. He was alarmed that she'd come so close to suddenly.  
"What does 'ghost form' entail?" she asked curiously.  
"Um," Norman started, a bit flustered now, "they look like they last did when they died, but kinda green and translucent, and they can float through whatever as as high as they want." Gracie stepped back to ponder this.  
"Do you think I'm lying?" Norman asked timidly after a moment.  
"Do you have a death wish?" Gracie finally asked.  
"No," Norman answered.  
"Then I'll just have to see your powers for myself before I can sentence you to anything," Gracie decided. She walked towards the library door, and Norman assumed he had to follow.  
"Oh, um, you're dismissed to you room," she said when she realized that he was, and so she walked to her own.


	4. The Door Swung Open

The door swung open to reveal Norman to Gracie, and vice versa. "I'm supposed to observe you all day, so get used to this early hour," Gracie said, having regained her tough-queen image overnight.  
She led him down to the dining hall, where breakfast was served. It was also where Gracie quickly lost the previous image.  
"How did you get your power?" she asked in almost a burst. She'd been telling herself to hold the question in, but she couldn't she was curious.  
Considering they hadn't talked all through the meal until that point, Norman was surprised, but still, he obeyed his queen. "I was born with it," he answered.  
"I wonder why..." Gracie pondered aloud. Norman shrugged uncomfortably, confused by her sudden switches between interest and disinterest.  
"Is there a lot of ghosts where you come from?" she inquired.  
"I guess..." he replied. Then he dared to say, "Can I ask you a question?"  
Gracie was taken slightly aback by being treated with less formality than she had for the past serval hundred years, but nodded nonetheless.  
"Why are you asking me so many questions about the details of my power, and even my life? Aren't you just supposed to observe me?" he asked.  
Gracie paused. "I'm... interested," she said.  
Now he paused. "Can I ask you another question?"  
"You don't have to ask my permission to ask a question," Gracie noted, actually feeling more comfortable when she was treated less formally.  
"Okay, uh... are you ever going to actually execute me?" he asked. Gracie realized that she had almost already answered that question.  
"I hope not," she said, almost whispering.  
Only a few heartbeats after she quickly said, "You're dismissed," and got up from her chair and out of the dining hall, leaving Norman sitting there.  
It was mostly an excuse for Gracie to dismiss herself because now she was flustered beyond belief. She'd only met him yesterday, and he was so much younger than her, but she realized she'd developed a special sort of feeling for him.


	5. Gracie Couldn't Believe Herself

Gracie couldn't believe herself, and she refused to. She couldn't possibly be in love with a man she just met. Maybe it was one of those silly schoolgirl crushes that all the other teenagers cooed over back all those years ago when she was in training to perhaps become the queen that she did.  
It strained her memory to think back that far, and again she remembered the age difference between her and Norman. Although he looked a good ten years older than her, she was a good ten by ten times older than him, and then a few more hundred years. Could one with limited life experience and one with a fountain of knowledge be together?  
Then Gracie realized the doom that would come if she fell into this love. She was immortal, and he was not. She would live, and he would die. She could not let what was happening happen.  
A knock came to her bedroom door. "Have you decided on the fugitive's execution?" said the owner of the knock, who was one of Gracie's various servants.  
"No!" Gracie said, a little to harshly. Then she cursed herself for still defending the one she should be trying to avoid. He was absolutely guilty of witchcraft, there was no doubt in her mind, but was it really fair to give him death? Some might argue that he would just become a ghost, but the death would have to be terrible for that, and Gracie wouldn't put him through it.  
Though, the easiest way to get rid of the blooming love interest was to kill him before she got too attached. She decided it was still an unfair death, and even if she was saving him, it didn't have to be out of romantic love. It could be out of a friendly love, or even simply human decency. However, there was the problem of how the people would take it. An overthrowing over legal issues had been done before, and since the queen was immortal at the time, they killed everyone close to her to dethrone her.  
Gracie composed herself, decided that she still wasn't decided, and proceeded out the door. She would go back to Norman to 'observe' him like she was supposed to until she did come upon a descision.  
Gracie found him where she thought: back in his room. She knocked. He opened the door. He didn't ask why she dismissed him just after breakfast.  
"I'm still supposed to be observing you," Gracie said, mostly for herself, but getting tired of the word 'observe'.  
"Okay," Norman agreed, knowing he could talk when he wanted around the queen. Gracie's stomach flipped at the thought of him getting more comfortable around her as he seemed to be, but she told herself he didn't feel these anxieties like she did, so he wouldn't have to watch where he fell, for it wouldn't be in love with her.  
Everything Gracie usually did without Norman there seemed awkward to go and do with him there, even though she'd done observations on many misjudged 'criminals of witchcraft' with them tagging along on her activities. She found herself stalling by taking roundabout ways through the castle, hoping Norman was already too lost in the maze of a building to notice, before she finally arrived outside.  
"I, um, usually do some gardening every day," Gracie said. She sensed how uncomfortable she was being and thought Norman sensed it too, which only increased her nervousness and made her more uncomfortable.  
"Okay," Norman repeated, a man of few words recently.  
"Alright," Gracie affirmed, for herself again, and made her way over to a shed. She retrieved the tools she needed, but due to her flustered clumsiness, she tripped over the little edge of a difference from the shed and the dirt that she somehow managed to avoid tripping for her previous hundreds of years.  
Either to her fortune or misfortune she crashed right into Norman, and he managed to catch her. Quickly she looked up at him, then scrambled away from his grasp and stepped back a bit. She saw a hint of confusion on his face, which put a red flush onto hers. Then she grabbed her tools back up off the ground and scurried to her garden.  
While she was gardening, Norman commented, "Those are pretty flowers." Gracie stopped, not turning around to face her complimenter who stood behind her, and soon returned to tending her garden. Why did she have to be such an anxious mess?  
When everything has been tended to, Gracie went back inside, Norman following like he was supposed to. They happened to come upon a hallway that featured a great line of pictures of previous kings and queens, with Gracie's own face displayed at the end.  
"The last date is the end of their reign, right?" Norman asked suddenly. He was referring to the two dates placed on the bottoms of the picture frames. "Because they can't die?"  
"Yes," Gracie affirmed. She turned around to watch him as he examined each picture and date. She also heard his breath catch as he read the first and only date on her own picture. She was the longest reigning monarch of te kingdom, all the others having had fleed from supposed insanity.  
"I can't even do the math to figure out how long ago that is from now," Norman remarked. He knew he would offend Gracie by talking about how old she was because she looked so young. She forever would.  
"What, you're saying I'm old?" Gracie joked anyway, trying to shake off her nerves.  
"Oh," Norman sputtered, looking up at her now, "I just thought that since you're pretty, you--" and he stopped cold. Gracie's face flushed again, but now Norman's did as well. They both stood still for a moment, realizing again and again that he actually said what he said.  
Uncomfortably Norman cleared his throat, and Gracie took a shaky breath in after.  
"Okay," she squeaked, then turned tail to keep moving.


	6. Luckily

Luckily tending to her entire garden took Gracie a long while, so it was close enough to nighttime to dismiss Norman without it being weird as it was previously. She did this once they arrived in the throne room, emerging from the halls.  
Once he'd left, Gracie took a large breath in and squatted onto the floor, holding her head and internally screaming. Norman was making it too hard to not fall for him. Dangerously, she thought that now he felt the same way about her.  
There were two places in which Gracie could go to calm herself. One was her room, but the other was the library. At night it had a weird sensation to it, as if reality was bent, so it was the ideal spot at that time.  
Gracie strolled through each set of bookcases, holding herself and taking huge whiffs of that crisp yet musty paper smell. She had almost calmed completely down when she saw that Norman, too, had retreated to the library for peace. He was sitting in a chair now facing her, so too late they saw each other and expected that the other expected them to begin small-talking. Gracie walked tentatively over to Norman because of this.  
"Hi," Norman was the first to say.  
Gracie nodded at first, trying to find her voice, then finally said, "Hi." It was almost concealed by a gulp.  
"Um, earlier I said..." Norman tries to explain, but faltered. He couldn't find what he was trying to say, despite the need he felt to say something about it.  
He ended up tripping over himself. "Like, you... uh, you're... it's not that you're NOT pretty... um... you're... you're... you are pretty." The red on his face revealed his embarrassment and the fact that that was not really what he wanted to say.  
"Thanks," Gracie managed to choke out.  
Norman stood stiffly, hesitating between leaving and staying. Then suddenly he planted a kiss onto Gracie's lips, only lasting a second but seeming longer. Then he dashed away, not quite running.  
Gracie was frozen in place, unmoving. It took her even longer to figure out what just happened than to realize what Norman had said earlier.  
Eventually she came to her senses, touching her own lips where Norman just had, knowing full and well that this could be anything but a good thing.


	7. Awake

Awake through the night, Gracie had kept herself up with many thoughts. One was that she thought she was acting too young after having lived for as long as she had. Why has she anything to fear? Nothing could truly harm her. Yet, her heart was exposed, and could be hurt emotionally.  
She also thought about what she might do about the fact that she had to murder Norman for 'witchcraft'. It was either that or have him die by the hand of the people because considering their complaints about the medium, they seemed the type to overthrow Gracie for not enforcing a law that would terminate him. She hoped that she never witnessed Norman using his power, for then she couldn't use the excuse of not having witnessed it to keep him alive. Lying wasn't even an option because complaints would come flying back if Gracie sent him home because he truly did have the power people claimed him to have.  
Gracie couldn't remember the last time she'd stayed up so late worrying that she'd slept in. It was probably all that time ago, back when she was in training to become queen, and she worried about everything. Nonetheless, she'd woken up late, and today was a day for political issues. Now she hadn't much time to get those things done.  
Gracie couldn't work up the nerve to retrieve Norman from his room, so she decided that if she was questioned on where he was, she would act tired and say she had to get to breakfast first. One of her main priorities was not to lie; it was part of being a good queen.  
Instead of the questions she presumed, she was bombarded already with political issues. She asked what time it was, and it turned out to be just about noon. She had already missed a meeting with the noblemen to discuss village dilemmas, so there they were, trying to council with her during breakfast.  
The day was so filled up with political issues that Gracie didn't ever have time to see to Norman. That made for another bout of anxiety at night, but she didn't sleep in quite so long.  
In the morning, she went to his room, repeatedly convincing herself to by saying that she had to do it at least for show, but when she knocked, he didn't answer. Luckily, before she made a fool out of herself by knocking multiple times, a servant came by and informed her that he wasn't in his room.  
Everything inside Gracie was willing her not to face him and to hide away, to let him be, but she knew she had to do what she was supposed to do and 'observe' him. It was for the people.  
She finally found him outside, sitting on a stone bench in the midst of Gracie's vast flower garden. He was reading a book.  
Norman glanced up at Gracie as he saw her come, but quickly went back to his book. Gracie forced her legs to move towards him.  
"I'm supposed to be observing you," she stated as her reasoning for approaching him.  
She observed him, as said, and noticed the book he was reason was an old horror story. "You like horror?" she asked. Everything inside of her was practically exploding, but she willed herself on.  
Norman finally looked up at her. "Yeah," he said.  
"May I ask why?" Gracie inquired, dying to break the tension, but preferably not through talking, though there was no other way.  
"Because... seeing dead people isn't insane in the worlds of horror," he explained. It was like a weight from his life had been set upon for Gracie. She realized how left out he'd been back home.  
Gracie fiddled with her hands. She didn't want to sit next to him, but just standing there was awkward. She made herself sit, every alarm in her head blaring. This was the first time since she was a little girl that her emotions took control of her ice power. The bench started to frost over just a little bit, and only in a thing layer.  
When Norman noticed that the sun-warmed stone had gone stone cold, he looked at the growing frost, then to Gracie. Gracie's hand grabbed the edge of the bench -- which she had almost fallen off of due to how far away she was trying to sit form Norman -- and little icicles formed around her fingers and palm.  
Norman caught on that this was because she was nervous, and he closed his book.   
"We... love... each other...?" He asked it more than he stated it.  
Gracie's face grew redder than the roses around them, but she managed to squeak, "Yeah."  
"Okay," Norman said, letting out jut a little bit of the breath he was holding. Gracie shivered, almost like mad.  
"You can't be cold, can you?" Norman asked, getting more comfortable after they both admitted their feelings. His comfort comforted Gracie a little more, so she had enough nerve to at least look at him.  
"No," she said, but her knee bounced up and down rapidly, almost uncontrollably.  
"What are you afraid of, then?" Norman asked, laughing slightly.  
"I don't even know," Gracie said, smiling a bit at his slight laugh, but she soon remembered what she was afraid of.  
"Then come on," he said, standing up and holding out his hand to help Gracie up. She took his hand, shakily, but that fear kept nagging at the back of her mind. She wanted to push it away, but anxiety wouldn't let her.  
"Remember," it said, "one day you will watch Norman die."


	8. Can I Kiss You Again?

"Can I kiss you again?" Norman asked, slightly embarrassed by the question.  
"Yes," Gracie affirmed, still shaking, and Norman planted another one onto her lips.  
"The last one was too one-sided," he said after, bringing up a smile from Gracie. She still shook.  
"Stop feeling so nervous!" he said.  
"I can't!" she replied, and they laughed, but it was true. Anxiety still tapped at her mind.  
Norman seemed confident until he tried to talk about how he felt. "I... I don't know what you want to do, but... I... I just... want to be with you," he stammered.  
"Um... same," Gracie agreed. "I mean... I'm... I'm the same way." Norman smiled, so Gracie did too.  
"I haven't tended my garden yet," Gracie said as a suggestion for something to do.  
"Let's get your tools, then!" Norman said, and they made their way over to the shed.  
They tripped and laughed, but still, anxiety said, "You'll regret this..."  
It was fairly night by the time they finished gardening, so it was dark, and most all castle staff was asleep. The couple despised to explore the empty castle, their voices echoing down the halls that were only lit by electric lights and candles.  
"This is my office! You didn't get to see it yesterday!" Gracie said, bringing him to a door. She and he were comfortable with each other now, and anxiety's voice got pushed farther and farther away, only its echoes resounding quietly in Gracie's head.  
Gracie opened the door, revealing a small room with only a cluttered desk and a chair to furnish it.  
"Whoa, a camera!" Norman said, grabbing the handheld machine not available beyond royalty. "Can I try it?"  
Gracie nodded, and he looked through the viewer. Then he pressed a button, and the flash snapped. A picture spit out from under the lens.  
"The myth is that shaking it makes it show up faster," Gracie said, grabbing the picture and shaking it. A picture of herself soon shown from the shiny black paper.  
"You keep that one," Norman said, and Gracie set it on her desk.  
"You know what's really fun to be in late at night?" Gracie remembered, recalling what it was like to feel as young as a mortal.  
"Show me," Norman said, and Gracie took him by the wrist, the camera still in his hands.  
She took him to the ballroom, the magnificent chandelier candles all still lit. Norman admired the beautiful room.  
"Would you care to dance?" Norman asked her, setting down the camera and holding out his hand. Always a woman of few words, she took his hand without saying, and they spun around ever so informally, kicking off their shoes.They were just having fun.  
Soon bare feet on the often waxed tile floor led to slipping, and they fell onto the floor in a fit of laughter.  
"Take my picture now," Norman said, standing to get the camera and bringing it to Gracie.  
She took the camera in her hands, then wrapped her arm around Norman's neck. She turned the camera around and took a picture of both of them, the shiny paper spitting out at them.  
"Shake it 'til you see it," he said, referencing the myth Gracie had mentioned, so she did. The two of them were barely squeezed into the shot.  
"You keep that one," she quoted, holding it out to him. He took it, smiling. Not that they both weren't already.  
Anxiety managed to get one last word in before Gracie shut out all it was to say about Norman: "He'll die before you know it. Promise him a place in your house of memories."


	9. Norman and Gracie

Norman and Gracie grew very close, so Norman just stayed in the castle with her for the rest of his life. The people just assumed that he wasn't guilty of witchcraft because the queen hasn't executed him, although Gracie never said anything official on that.  
The couple wanted to keep their type of relationship a secret and come off as just friends, but in reality most everybody could tell it was a different kind of love. Due to their secrecy, however, they never got married. No one dared question the queen.  
The two got older, but Norman obviously showed it more than Gracie. They began to look odd if you saw them as the romantic couple that they were because at face value it came to look like an old man and a teenaged girl were together. Truly, the one who looked like an old man was almost new to the world in the truly old one's eyes.  
Sadly, as most of the old do, Norman became weak and ill. He had to spend most to all of his time in his room, with doctors all around.  
One day, the doctors informed Gracie that she come see Norman. Anxiety about their relationship came crawling back, hissing tales of being right those years ago. Gracie tried her best to ignore it, but sensibly she grew nervous.  
"Hi," Norman greeted her in his withered, raspy voice he'd gained. Gracie, still of few words, nodded with a forced smile. She sat at the end of his bed.  
"Take my picture now," he said, fumbling for the shiny paper on the dresser next to his bed. Eventually his fingers found it, grasping it enough to bring it over to Gracie. It was the picture of the two of them, he still with his fresh face, in the ballroom that night those years ago. She took it into her two hands.  
"Shake it 'till you see it," he quoted, referring to the myth, but went into a bout of coughing.  
Then came the words that anxiety cackled at the sound of Norman saying: "Promise me a place in your house of memories."  
"No," Gracie said to discourage him from talking as if he was dead, but as she did his labored breathing stopped.  
"No!" she said, louder this time, leaning over to use her hand to find a pulse in his neck, gripping the picture tightly in her other hand.  
"NO!" she screeched when she found no pulse, shaking Norman slightly as if he was only sleeping and she could awake him.   
"NO NO NO NO NO!!!" she continued, flopping her entire self over her loved one in an embrace as doctors poured in, who were feeling for a pulse in multiple places and checking multiple things while Gracie screamed. Finally, after the doctors found no sign of life, they tried to pry their queen off of the corpse. She let out a continuous ugly wail, sobbing harshly as the doctors forced against her pushing towards her lost one to the outside of the room.  
Gracie banged her fists on the door until she had nothing left to cry out with. She'd let herself fall where she knew she should've stepped cautiously. Now she had to live until the end of forever without him.


	10. Afterwards

Afterwards I ran away from the kingdom, losing myself in territory I didn't know and throwing myself off of any cliff I could find. I would never get hurt, yet it was a painful reminder that my heart still could.  
Years later a knight -- or someone of that sort -- found where I'd wandered. They and a few others had been on a mission to find me because the kingdom couldn't crown a new king or queen without me there to bestow my power unto them. I agreed to come, and I'm sure that that particular knight won some sort of prize for finding me.  
I was told to train the very young ones to be possible candidates, as I had been, but the people complained that they'd been too long without a ruler. That was when I had to choose from the five teens of noble blood, and where I had to bestow my curse upon the only one of them who had fallen in love as I had. I gave him Hell.  
I should've chosen Rapunzel, one who could immortalize whoever she might have fallen for, but I had already passed on the job to someone else, sho chose Jack. I thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a hope that Rapunzel would be able to keep Elsa young, but sadly yet another person I'd grown close to had died. Rapunzel had soon after going home gone into shock over what all traumatizing had happened, dying, and therefore was no longer in the healing business. I didn't want to tell Jack and Elsa about the possibility of Rapunzel's healing of age if they hadn't figured it themselves because I didn't want to frustrate them. There's nothing more frustrating than thinking about something that should have been done but no longer can be done.


End file.
